Set Free
by GCrockergirl92
Summary: Adam's thoughts, memories, and events leading up to his death.


It had been many days. Possibly a week, maybe less. When the door finally shut, he kept screaming, saying anything that he could force out of his mouth. Anything to persuade the Dead Man to let him go. He would have done anything at that time. What did he do? What did he do to deserve this? Memories of Lawrence flashed through his mind. "I call it my need to eat" He had said.

And that's what it was. He needed money to pay for rent, food, everything that life was built on. Everything life depended on. "My need to eat...," he said, unknowingly aloud. The sound of his voice startled him, and he felt the vibrations mix with the heat of the room and bounce back into his ears. It echoed, and became a song to him that replayed continuously. _Eat...Eat...Eat..._

_My need too…_

_Eat eat eat!_

He had been drinking the water from the faucet of the tub, but the supply soon ran out after a day or so. The room was warm. The air was thick and muggy; as if a heavy rain were about to fall. But it never rained. The lack of light had twisted his eyes, sent stars and waves of sparkles in front of him. The thought of him getting out of the bathroom was ever constant, always thinking about Lawrence.

He said he would come back for him. He said he wouldn't leave. He had memorized the exact tone that Gordon's voice had as he spoke to him for the last time. A wavering, un-easy sound. He had desperately reached for him, any part of him; the thought of being alone was unbearable. Any sound he heard, be it faint or loud- he thought it was Lawrence coming back to rescue him. But it never was.

Zep's body was deteriorating slowly. The skin had tightened around bone and muscle- the remnants of when he bashed his head open lay strewn across the grimy tile floor. He didn't know it wasn't Zep. How could he have known? He killed another person, but he didn't know the false circumstances he was acting under. The man was in a game of his own...Struggling to move, he winced as he reached for Zep's body. It had occurred to him that he could eat Zep, but for what point? Lawrence was coming back for him. And the smell coming from Zep wasn't the most appetizing of smells. Neither was the smell from Gordon's foot. He gazed over at the other end of the bathroom, imagining Lawerence was still there. Sometimes he heard him, sometimes he'd awake to see him there, but it never was really him. The pile of broken glow-in-the-dark tiles glared back at him as if to say, _"You didn't have to give him that hacksaw, you know?"_ "...Shut up."

He had pushed the body away from him when it had first occurred to him, making a dark red smudge across the floor. His arm didn't smell like a garden of roses either. He wasn't sure if the bullet had pierced through him, or if the bullet had grazed him. Or if the bullet was still lodged inside of him...Reaching for what he really wanted, he turned away and felt around in the dark.

The tape player. Of anything in the room, the player felt cold and sleek in his hands. He studied it for a moment, and then pressed play. The voice's sound was barren in the hollow bathroom walls. A deep, grotesque, distorted sound. And then he noticed it. A little red button on the side of the player. He stopped the tape, re winded, and pressed the red button. There was no sound. He let out a groan and pressed stop. Almost as if to reassure himself, he re winded the tape and pressed play again. It was nice to hear something other then your own thoughts.

It started late, which made him look at the tape, then he heard his groan from a few second before. Then the voice started. It took him a minute to realize what he had done. And then it hit him- he had recorded. The player wasn't just a player, it was a recorder too. Frantically, he pressed play, the red button, then rewind; he would tape over the voice. The tape inside stopped abruptly, and then he pressed play, and the red button.

"Hello...If anyone finds this tape, My name is Adam Faulkner, I live at 28457 Las Pinatas Drive, in Los Angles, my birthday is on May 5th, 1982..." His mind was racing. "I'm chained to the wall in this bathroom...Dr. Lawrence Gordon was chained here too, but he cut off his foot and he went to get help...He hasn't come back." He realized he was starting to sob.

He looked over at the dark outline of Zep's body. "The man in the room with me is Zep Hindle, and he didn't do anything wrong, I thought he did, but he was in a game just like me and Lawrence...Someone is going around putting people in games...God, I'm going to hell for killing him…I- I-" He took a moment to gather his thoughts. "I don't know what to do...I'm so alone in here...No one can hear me…If you find this, please..." He shuttered. "Please tell my family I love them and I'm sorry." His mind frantically raced to think of anything else to say, but he started crying.

He pressed stop and covered his face, sobbing into his hands. If anyone did find the tape, he would be dead, dead, dead...But it had been hours now, days, weeks. He slumped against the wall in the bathroom, the darkness engulfing his mind and his thoughts. He could feel his pants loosen around him; his shirt hung on him like a rag. Moving was like walking through water; being so weak and fatigued had almost driven him crazy. Just being so alone, being with no one else, with no one else to talk to, no one else to be there for you, to reassure you...

Then his hand hit something. He felt it: a small, smooth, rectangular object...The lighter. Searching all around him, he felt for the cigarette. It was a little less the half-way smoked, and he smiled as he lit it up. His last cigarette. It preoccupied his thoughts, and put his mind at ease. He drifted in and out of darkness, loosing consciousness, every part of his body screaming; yet comforting. And slowly, easily, he imagined darkness.

---

He heard a familiar sound, and then a faint light hit him. He felt a rush of cold air enter the bathroom, the walls expanded and contracted as if they let out a sigh. He couldn't move. Well, he could move, but he could feel death tugging at him. Sleep was an enemy to his life. It lulled him into a false sense of security. Slowly pulling him in...

He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't move, and his mind was gone. Maybe, perhaps it all wasn't gone, he could still feel, he still had emotion. He could still think. He still was Adam. _"I was born on May 5th, so that would make me a Taurus. I lived in my shit hole apartment..." _And then he felt someone moving.

_"Zep?"_ He thought, as if the dead body would get up and walk out of the room._ "Hey man, you forgot your tape. Could you give me a hand too? Awful sorry about bashing your head open."_

A small voice was reaching to him, pulling him out of his deathly sleep. "Adam...Adam..." Then he realized- Lawrence! He turned his head, and reached out to the body next to him. He felt skin, hair... He was instantly relived. _Gordon came back. Just in time. He remembered me. The police are investigating the room, and they have an ambulance just for me...I'm going to be okay..._His eyes adjusted to the face in front of him. He instantly felt crushed. It wasn't Lawrence_. "Where have I seen this face before...?"_ It was a feminine face, short dark hair; rock-star hair...The girl from his apartment. He came onto her…He wasn't really interested in her...He remembered taking her picture.

"Adam...," she kept saying in her light, girly voice. Was he hallucinating? It occurred in his train of thought that she was Death, but he felt her again...Yes...She was real. She was real! He was going to live. He was going to live..."Adam," She said again. It tickled through his ears, and it reminded him of birds singing.

A bird singing, saying his name, "I'm going to free you...Adam..." He reached for her, and he felt her settle her body behind him. Her legs tightened around his mid-section. She pressed against him, and whispered into his ear. "I'm going to free you..."

And then he couldn't breathe. It was a strange feeling, reaching into the darkness, trying to find something clinging to your face. It was thin, and cold, and smelled like plastic. Every time he reached for it, whatever it was, he could never get a grasp on it. An invisible force was suffocating him; he gulped down any air he could suffice, the pain straining in his lungs.

He clawed desperately in front of him, but that made the force pull itself tighter. And then he realized; it was coming from behind him. He reached and felt an arm. He grasped the arm and struggled against the force holding him back. The bird was singing again, but now with a sad, pleading song. She was crying... And then the force pulled him downward, his head smacked against the toilet.

There was a defining crunch that spread through his skull, then another that split his head open. It was a slicing, ringing sound; metallic and warm. The singing was mangled now, he felt blood rush from his head, and the bathroom spun.

The pain was sharp at first, then everything felt soft, and warm. Blood spurted out of his mouth as he convulsed. He gagged, and felt the room closing around him. It would all be dark soon. The sleep he had been avoiding was coming. It creeped, slowly, inching its way into him, and his eyes closed. He heard the bird singing softly again, and he fell forward, letting it come to him.

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AN: This is my second Saw fic. Whever I watch the scene in Saw III, it makes me cry, so I wrote a story about it, because I'm weird, and I like Adam. Amanda's voice reminded me of a bird in the movie, so you can use the symbolism to your liking. Please leave a review:D


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